Hunters Moon
by Runewulf
Summary: The team meet the Wild Hunt. Their latest case has somehow hidden his soul in the belief he can retrieve it whilst using another body, but the Wild Hunt has come before he has found a body to use. The team must find the soul, prevent it using another body. Also, prove their victim was not a murder victim - or was he. Woden is concerned also with a past - murder or not?
1. Chapter 1

Hunter's Moon by Cu cuchilain

Hunters Moon is a story that happily borrows NCIS characters. I do not own NCIS or the characters. I promise to leave them unharmed – physically anyway – for the next person to use. The legend of the Wild Hunt belongs to nobody and everybody, but I come from a land where such beliefs were strong. I found stuff about the hunt in the works of Jacob Grimm – yes, that family Grimm – and the philosophy of psychologist Carl Jung. The concept of a hunter's moon post dates the concept of a wild hunt but I decided that was OK. It fits. Sorry if my use of U.K. English confuses you – I know the spelling will seem strange; I always blame the Normans who added French to the interesting mix that was early English.

The leading hunter was a god, at first - Odin, Woden, and other related figures. Those who had been condemned to ride after a prey they could never catch for all eternity, could be bad men, dishonoured kings, dark elves or demons, The riders on the hunt rode horses snorting fire and with red eyes and steel hooves. Seeing the hunt was an omen of some coming disaster. The leaders changed over time becoming legendary kings and other powerful figures, among peoples of Germanic culture and language. In Austria the leader of the hunt was female. The hunt crossed the Atlantic and emerged in a song about Ghost Riders in the Sky. I don't own that either. I thank and respect all those who produced it. And the concept of a container for a soul – well, I owe J.K. Rowling for that.

Hunter's Moon.

 _Chapter 1 – Rude awakening_

A long high, whistle split the night, invaded his dreams, awakened him; he tried to stand, found that he already was standing; but not in his bedroom in his apartment. He was in a primeval forest; red earth was scattered with large pale boulders and the widely spaced trees made a high, dark-green canopy. The sky above was alight with stars that were not dimmed by city lights below. A great, silvered moon dipped into the West. Tim McGee felt watched, but as he turned slowly, staring, the high whistle again rent the air and there was a baying of hounds. To the East the sky was silently becoming the rosy pink of dawn and a cool breeze ruffled his hair. The unseen hounds bayed more distantly and there was far away thunder, like the drumming of a hundred hoofs, unshod hoofs.

He was facing East, toward the dawn. Sky overhead was growing paler, translucent blue with drifting pink clouds. The great moon was gone, stars were dimmer.

Beneath a tree a mounted figure was watching him. The dark horse stood facing the sunrise, the long tail twitching. The rider was turned away from him, looking back over his shoulder, watching him.

Features were hard to make out at this distance, but he became aware of his nakedness; as he began to feel the familiar embarrassment, the sable horse reared, forelegs beating air, tale lashing, mane blown wild. Startled, he fell back,

His own bedding enclosed him, he saw the morning sky through his window as usual, and knew he must soon get up for work.

Tony DiNozzo woke up with a rough head and tongue. He was cold, he was out of doors, but he seemed to remember getting back to his apartment last night. He sat up and groaned, feeling beneath him the rough bark of a fallen tree. A tree wide enough for him to lie on, but where was he? There was dark red, sandy earth beneath his feet; his head was pounding and it took him a moment to understand the sound of horses; it was not what he'd been drinking that had caused the strange scene, the strange feelings. Suddenly, nearby and behind him, a horse snorted. He whipped around, reaching for his gun. There was no gun. There was no holster. He was in some crazy landscape he could not remember seeing before. And nearly naked from the waist down. He heard a baying of hounds, hungry, eager hounds. A large, frantic stag charged across the landscape before him, eyes bulging, terrified and he heard a thunder of hoofs beating the sandy plane – and ll at once he was falling backwards onto his sofa, in his apartment, where he had fallen asleep in his shirt and boxers. As he closed his weary eyes against the brightening dawn, his mind held a lasting impression of a red eyed horse with smoke rising from it's nostrils. He sensed there was a rider, watching him.

The earth was dark red. Huge, white boulders were randomly thrown, as if a giant child had scattered pebbles. Trees like giant redwoods held up the vaulted sky.

From a window where she had expected to gaze at the awakening city, she saw a great primeval forest. A whistle, high and chill, blew the clouds around; and a stampeding herd of cattle thundered by – and Ellie screamed, for the cattle had red eyes. As the last one ran past, her eye caught a glimpse of the riders, brief and chilling; they had blurred eyes, gaunt faces, sweat soaked shirts – and as the vision faded a voice of a singer came upon her dreaming senses –

" _Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat; they're riding hard to catch that herd but they ain't caught them yet ..."_

But the voice of Johnny Cash faded and she was in her room, gazing at the city through her window.

Above the roofs and towers of the great city there was a cloudy landscape. A herd of red eyed cattle climbed a slope to higher cloudy levels and far away to the west, riding out of the darkness toward the rising sun came riders with gaunt faces and sweat soaked shirts and the wide brimmed hats of old wild west cowboys.

The leading Huntsman slowed his steed, a sable coated giant horse that snorted fire. Ellie backed away from her window.

He looked at her. He was tall, light of complexion, had one blue eye and long golden hair. He wore no hat. She found it hard not to stare at the space where his other eye should be; Odin, Woden, Wotan all had removed one of their eyes, so folklore and legend said, but she didn't believe in that stuff did she?

As his figure drew away, growing smaller and fading in the sunrise, Ellie also turned away; she needed breakfast and to get ready for work; the visions faded, the sun was rising; briefly, almost like a whisper, she heard the riders cry on the morning air – Yippee-yi-oh-oh, yippee-yi-aye-ay; she went to work.

In the Bull pen there was an unusual quietness. Tony was not annoying Tim, Tim was staring at his computer, frowning, Ellie was staring into the distance. Gibbs was with the director, but he had already noted his distracted agents.

Tim stared at his monitor, trying to concentrate. He could use the time until Gibbs arrived from wherever he was to catch up on paperwork; his mind would not obey him. He sighed and typed 'Hunter's Moon' into the web browser. He was not sure why, he knew there were 28 days in a moon cycle. He knew the moon this time of year in The British Isles and Northern Europe was the Hunter's moon. He had even heard of the Wild Hunt. He had hardly expected to see it.

Ellie was at her desk eating, her second or third breakfast. The more she had to think about the dawn, the hungrier she became and at this moment she was wondering if it was safe or sensible to ask if anybody else had seen the Wild Hunt. They probably hadn't, it was an ancient belief that had travelled across the Atlantic. She tucked into her toast, catching Tim's eyes and smiling 'Hello'. Her smile seemed to relax the atmosphere but then Gibbs appeared;

"Grab your gear. Dead naval officer in Rock Creek Park."

They grabbed gear and left, as if no strange illusions had disturbed anybody's sleep. As if this death could not be a disaster as the appearance of the hunt predicted.

In a clearing bordered by oak and birch, two park rangers stood waiting for the NCIS team.

"They won't believe us, nobody will believe us."

"Well, we still have to mention it." His companion replied. As they stood and watched and waited, a clear hoof print blurred and vanished from the ploughed up field, leaving clean, standing grass.

 **The** ranger was correct; the MCRT did not believe in disappearing hoof prints, until ...

"Are you sure it was there in the first place, Mr Palmer?" Ducky sounded somewhat annoyed.

"That print disappeared as I watched." Jimmy insisted.

Before Ducky could say what he really thought Ellie came over to them. She had heard Jimmy and knew there had been more hoof prints in the area around the corpse when she had taken pictures than there were now.

"Look," she said, "You can see the difference."

She showed them the pictures she had taken. Where the victim lay with limbs thrown wide like a discarded marionette there were hundreds of prints from cattle and horses – but fewer on the ground than in pictures taken moments before.

"I honestly can't believe what I just saw." Ducky whispered, hoarsely.

"We saw it too, Ducky." McGees voice was a whisper.

"Ah – I'm with Ducky, don't believe I saw it."  
Gibbs turned on his heel and headed for the van.

He needed coffee. Nobody had seen him standing near enough to hear. Ellie and Tim took as many pictures as they could. Tony wanted to interview rangers but they had fled. He helped Jimmy Palmer load the body onto the van and the MCRT headed back to the Navy Yard. When they had gone, the field returned to a grassy clearing, encircled with police crime scene tape but with every hoof print gone.

 **End Chapter 1.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N The original story of the hunt did not involve a cattle drive. The prey was not always mentioned but it was likely to be a well grown red stag with many points on his antlers, or a wild boar. A hare would not carry the same weight as an animal for the hunt to chase.**

 _Hunter's Moon, Chapter two – 2_ _nd_ _night of the full moon._

"Lieutenant James Thomas Bradley, age 42, born Fall River Massachusetts. Joined navy aged 18, service record good but unremarkable, however ... " Tony turned at the unusual silence. "What's up McGee?"

"He had unusual interests."

"Like what, not like being an Elf Lord or flying with a jet pack." Tim McGee managed a smile.

"Not quite – he claims to have seen the Wild Hunt, his insistence on this made him get sent for psychological evaluation a year ago. He has done research, it says here, into immortality of the soul and avoidance of being taken to ride with the Hunt."

"The WHAT! What's a wild hunt?." Tony hoped McGee was not going to describe anything like his nightmare dream. However, within a few words his hopes were scuppered.

"From English, Scottish, Scandinavian folklore and legend – Also German, Austrian, French and maybe others – criminals, bad kings, dishonoured leaders were lead across the skies on a wild hunt forever trying to catch the deer, the wild boar, the crazed hare – and here in the USA, the Devil's herd of red-eyed cattle. The legend crossed the oceans and became ours too. Have you heard – course you have, you probably know it – "Ghost Riders in the Sky?"

"Johnny Cash sang that – years ago. "

"Story goes, seeing the wild hunt was a sign of coming disaster."

Tim McGee waited for a smart arse response from Tony, but, oddly, there was none. Tony seemed thoughtful. He looked again at the picture of the murdered Lit: on the plasma screen.

"So, you saying our victim was killed on a wild hunt? Maybe a wild goose chase?"

As usual, nobody had seen or heard Gibbs' approach.

"Ducky hasn't said what killed him yet." Said McGee.

"Fright, was what he told me."

"He looked terrified." Tony offered.

"If he saw the hunt he would have known disaster was coming his way." Ellie added "But did he know the legend?"

"Studying the Wild Hunt was a hobby of his." Tim tried to sound as if what he was saying was perfectly sensible.

"Maybe he dreamed about it, gave himself nightmares." He suggested.

"But we saw the prints from cattle and horses." Tony was trying to keep a sense of normality, and failing.

"There are none left." They all turned to look at Ellie.

The bright morning had darkened and huge rainclouds shadowed the navy yard. Coffee cups overfilled trash cans and Gibbs' mood was growing dark as the cloudy skies. They had life history and financial history for the dead man and nothing but his Wild Hunt hobby gave pause for thought. Tony and Ellie had examined his living quarters and found nothing suspicious in the naval neatness of everything. He was a widower with no children. Tony had tried to contact his sister in New York, and left a message on her ansaphone to contact NCIS for news of her brother. They had also told the local police but they had been unable to contact her yet. There were no parents living and no other living siblings. There was a locked box, like a small seaman's chest, beside his bed on the table there, with his books.

"We should wait for his sister to arrive – she may have a key." Tony had readily agreed with Ellie; neither wanted to touch the box, although they could not have said why. It was not some creepy old chest from the time of pirates, but a modern copy of how an old treasure chest was supposed to look. Ellie photographed it. They debated about procedure – should they leave the chest in place or take it to the evidence garage at the Navy Yard. Bishop was hungry – nothing new. She decided to take the chest back after all – maybe there was a key amongst Lt: Bradley's personal possessions, those he'd had with him.

As they left the quarters, they were shocked at how dark it had become for early afternoon. The chest felt heavier as they made their way to the car, heavier than when Tony had first picked it up.

'Yippee-i- oh-oh-oh, yippee-i-ay-ay, the ghost-riders in the sky;'

"It's no use looking at me like that, Gibbs. I want to explain it, but I can't. I SAW the hoof prints on the photos when Tim and Ellie brought them. I have no clue as to how they disappeared." Abby seemed bewildered and tired. Gibbs was wondering how to report this to Director Vance. Rain pattered on a window. Very soon, evidence of a stampeding herd of cattle followed by horsemen would be gone.

They had conferred with one another, they had expressed disbelief in all they had seen and heard around them as the day grew darker; the squad room emptied. The agents stood watching the crime scene on the largest screen, joined by Abby, Ducky and Palmer. They knew that somewhere, where they had left the ordered daily world, night staff were settling to their quiet routines. Cops on stake-out kept silent watch; doctors and nurses silently tended those in such need; less honest people of the night went about their dubious business.

On the glowing screen, the red-eyed cattle plunged and bucked, ran toward the West, leaving behind them a thunder on the air. They were followed by horses who snorted fire and smoke; the riders had blurred eyes, gaunt faces, sweat soaked shirts. And as they passed, they found they understood which was the leader for he turned to see them, one eye a glacial blue, wild light-coloured hair blowing in a crazy wind, sharp features like an avenging axe. He was gone in a heartbeat.

The screen faded and soon everything was cooled off and dark. Ducky made the first move. He turned toward the lift and led the way out and toward the parked cars. Nobody spoke. Jimmy Palmer hurried home to Breena and Ducky set off in his fine old car, after advising the agents and Abby to get home and rest. Five cars set off from the Navy Yard. They had called 'Goodnight.' They went home to their various solitary houses and apartments, and night cloaked the city in a hushed peace.

 ** _YIPPEE-AYE-OH YIPPEE-AYE-AY – THE GHOST RIDERS IN THE SKY!_**

McGee awoke, bewildered; he had a blurred memory of getting home from work and getting to bed. He wondered how far they were in solving the murder of Lt: Bradley. His thoughts were interrupted by a high, piercing whistle. He was standing in a wild heroic landscape. Gigantic trees grew from the dark red earth. Great white boulders were spread about. The sky was a pale grey and the air was cool and still.

The distant baying of hounds sent shivers up his spine, a thunder of hoofs chilled him to the bone. He remembered the wild hunt. And as he thought of them, how the cattle appeared; red eyes, steel hoofs, black shiny horns, brands still on fire and it was the Devil's brand he saw although he didn't believe in the Devil. The riders were coming – and some he knew – Ari Aswari, Harper Dearing, the port to port killer, Pedro Hernandez, others he thought he knew; they were all laughing with a wild insanity, desperate and trying to catch his eye. Some were women. Amanda met his eyes and laughed. He flinched. Then, the Huntsman was there.

He stared and started falling back onto his bed, his world fading into darkness.

Tony found he had lost his voice. Red eyed cattle pounding across the television screen could do that. He had been dozing in front of the set most of the night, wishing he had got Tim and possibly Bishop, to come home with him. He wasn't sure where the visions or dreams were coming from, but he had noted that Tim and Ellie seemed to have been having something similar. Had they all been drugged, or hypnotised? The investigator within him was awakened. Someone or something was responsible for the dead navy officer. What was really going on here?

The victim – was he also a killer? Was the Wild Huntsman a serial killer or some kind of avenging angel? He had gathered that the people forced to ride the hunt were the spirits, (souls, perhaps?), of those who had done bad things in their lives. He had recognised Ari Aswari, who had killed Kate. Had Tim also seen him? How had the Wild Hunt appeared on the screen in the squad room?

Had there been tampering with the computers and technology at the Navy Yard? If so, who would do that, and why?

Tony wrote a note to himself to ask Tim how such tampering could be done – or ask Abby? Better be Tim, who, Tony was certain, did not believe in ghosts and demons riding fire-breathing horses, nor in the ancient one-eyed god.

Tony felt incredibly weary. He opened his laptop and Googled Wild Hunt –

And there came a flash of surprised realisation. They all knew it was the Wild Hunt. However, nobody had said those words as far as he could remember. They had not discussed it. He took out his notebook and pen and made a note about discussing the dreams or illusions, whatever they were with everybody else. This moment of decisiveness made him feel more like the investigator he really was. Then he looked at his laptop screen and wondered why it was displaying a herd of red-eyed cows.

Ellie Bishop sat cross legged on her floor. She had looked up Wild Hunt on the internet and found the stuff she needed. Her music player filled the room with music – Ghostriders in the Sky – had she bought that? Unlikely! How could it be playing? The screen flickered; an internet item about the Harry Potter books: horcrux?

 **End, chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again and thank to those who have followed and favourited. I am sorry for confusing you with my two names – may even get it sorted one day. There are usually 3 nights of full moon and this chapter is about the day leading to the last night of the moon. The god Woden is another character – not from NCIS, nor Harry Potter and not mine except as I present him but he belongs to a far distant past.

Hunter's Moon

Chapter 3

It was cold in the early dawn. Tony sat shivering in his car, although it was more than the cold making him quake. His night had slipped away on dreams and visions of red eyed cattle, their brands still smoking, their hooves shiny as polished steel. The car would not start; his cell had no signal; a rising dust cloud surrounded him. He struggled valiantly to curb his natural panic as his car was surrounded by lowing red eyed cows pushing their way through clouds of dust. Computer and TV screens at work and home could have been tampered with, false pictures and videos let in; around his car, they were inexplicable, these illusions, therefore terrifying. He nearly leapt from the drivers' seat in shock at a rapping on the window of the passenger door.

He turned his head slowly, fearfully – and saw Tim and Ellie both looking pale and tired, as if dreams had kept them awake. They didn't appear to notice the cattle or the dust clouds – nor yet the angry looking man behind them.

"Gibbs!" Tony shouted in relief. With startling alacrity Tim and Ellie raced to the back doors and scrambled inside leaving their boss to ride shotgun. With them settled and the doors closed, They turned to look at one another.

"How did you get across town?" Tony asked. "Did you see the cattle, the prairie dust clouds?"

"Waddya talkin' about Skippy." Growled Gibbs. "I came in my truck – it's in the parking area back of your building; we arranged it last night." Tony frowned at a strange scrap of memory. He couldn't recall making the arrangement.

"Did you see the cattle Tim?" Tony sighed. "They pick and choose their appearances, these illusions. How you holding up? Your logical brain totally confounded yet"

"Totally .It was a shock and a relief when you rang – thought my cell was dead."

"Mine seemed dead too." Said Ellie.

"I thought I hadn't gotten through to anyone." Tony said, through gritted teeth, "What is going on?"

"Good question, Dinozzo – you tell me." Gibbs snarled. Three bewildered agents stared at him. They stared beyond him out of car windows from whence the red eyed herd had vanished in it's own dust cloud, and to the East the sky above the tall buildings was a pearly grey of dawn and in the distant street-wide gaps between buildings, they could see pink tipped clouds, echoing a sliver of red sky, a shepherd's warning. Tony started the car and headed for the Navy Yard, for work.

"An old cowboy went riding on a dark and windy day,

Upon a ridge he rested as went along his way,

When all at once a herd of red eyed cows he saw

Ploughing through the ragged skies

And up a cloudy draw.

Their brands were still on fire and their hoofs were made of steel.

Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel.

A bolt of fear went through him as the last ones past him by,

For he saw the riders coming hard

And heard their mournful cry.

"Yippee-aye-oh ohoh, Yippee-aye-a a-a"

The Ghost Riders in the sky."

"You left the radio on DiNozzo?"

"Yeah Boss, must have. Didn't expect that though."

The radio – if it were the radio – had paused for their interruption. When they paused, it continued.

"Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred

Their shirts all soaked with sweat,

They're riding hard to catch that herd

But they aint caught 'em yet,

For they've to ride forever on that range up in the sky

On horses snorting fire,..."

Silence and the car stopped.

"Hey." Tony's angry yell made everybody jump. He looked around his car, surprised at everybody being in there. Within the quiet navy yard, the dusty clouds were rising from the lawns and pavings; above them the dawn sky was shades of grey, with shades of deep pink to the East as the earth and sun made greeting. There was a thunder of hoofs and the deep baying of hounds.

The giant shadow of a stag fell across the car and those inside. In the brief darkness, and the sudden chill, the hounds sounded closer; the stag shadow disappeared to the West, racing ahead of the sun and light into invisible darkness. The hounds came, baying, green eyed giants with paws the size of car wheels and wide, red lined jaws filled with sharp yellow fangs. After the stag they raced on silent feet, and their voices faded into the distance. And riders came.

"I've read stories about the wild hunt." Said Ellie. "They were not like a cattle drive to start with – they were on a deer hunt. The leader ..."

Her voice faded; they were staring through the windshield and a figure stared back at them.

"I'm thinking of arresting him,!" said Gibbs.

"But what for Boss?" Tony was staring at a tall man with one blue eye and warrior braided hair.

"Blocking traffic?" Tim sounded as if he couldn't hold onto his sanity, there was a slight tremor in his voice, almost an hysterical giggle. . He had not learned much about the Wild Hunt but it was not the sort of thing that he believed in.

"I think he is seeking the spirit of Lt: Bradley" Ellie whispered.

"Isn't it in our morgue?" Said Tim.

"More likely in Rock Creek Park. " Maybe we can find out what he did to make the Wild Hunt want to find him and punish him."

At her words the leader, all visions and sounds evaporated and they were in the Navy Yard in Tony's car.

"That box –where is it?"

"Evidence locker – we need to take it up to Abbys lab."

"Wonder what's in it to make it so heavy."

"Gold is heavy."

"So is lead, McGee." Growled Gibbs.

They left the car one by one, each carefully scanning the area around them. There were no dust clouds, no cows with red eyes, no warrior braided one-eyed men.

"Maybe they have gone inside" Said Ellie.

"Or just gone." Tim sounded hopeful.

The agents stayed in a huddle as Tony locked up his car, then headed indoors with Gibbs leading the way, impatient and on the verge of explosive anger.

The dreams, visions and other odd events he did not understand and that made him angry.

Tony would have preferred keeping his car safe somewhere but, as his was the only car they had with them, he followed everyone into the evidence garage. Somebody put on the lights and all seemed normal, ordinary, without Wild Hunters and fire snorting horses; no red eyed cows lowed within and no giant stag cast shadows, no one eyed man watched. Gibbs headed straight for the locked chest. He put his right hand on top and immediately it started rocking on the table that held it. The table legs juddered and tapped a rapid tattoo on the floor. The chest screamed. Gibbs scowled at it.

"What's he kept in here?" he growled.

Nobody considered answering; Tony, Tim and Ellie stood clear of the chest, watching it as if they thought it was going to do something. It settled into stillness and silence again.

They heard the elevator bell ting. And the doors open. Silence; it could not be Abby. There was no sound as they sensed the approach of someone – something – coming into view. He – it – when they were able to see, was astonishing. A very tall, broad shouldered man, he seemed. Under fifty, over thirty, probably, with sun burnished skin; his abundant, warrior braided hair hung to his knees and was a bright, red/gold colour that shone in the electric lights. His lips were long, narrow and dark cherry red; he had a magnificent prow of a nose; and one eye, a blazing ice blue eye. The old scars of the empty socket gleamed silver. He gazed at them, taking them all in. His leather tunic he wore over a dark wool shirt. His wide leather belt carried a broad sword and a scramseax.

Other figures gathered behind the first, shadowy beings without his presence. They were pale silver and grey, long eared and wide eyed with wild hair. Some were archers, others wore swords.

The first creature stared at the federal agents and asked.

"Where is he hiding, he who should be riding with me?"

"Who the hell do you mean and who the hell are you?" bellowed Gibbs.

The large being turned to look at Gibbs.

"I am known as Woden, to some, to others Odin."

"So, you want the dead man?"

"His soul – his horse awaits him. His body is no longer needed – his kin will deal with it."

The chest on the table rattled wildly.

Gibbs' phone rang and he took it from his pocket.

He listened briefly and stared at his agents.

"His sister is dead, NYPD say it was murder – they suspect Bradley. Do you guys realise it's nine o'clock in the morning, you guys?"

"In Harry Potter," offered Ellie, thoughtfully, "A Wizard had to take a life to save part of his or her soul."

Woden's large, ice blue eye rolled toward the chest.

"More of his soul might be in there. However, I had no idea Bradley was a sorcerer."

"He was not – he was a sailor, he was supposed to serve his country, he had no business being anything else."

Gibbs somehow managed to engender more fear in everyone than the unbelievable figure of the god – but then, the god's voice had held no threat - yet.

Woden gazed at his audience. He rarely held conversation with individual humans – even when he had brought the runes for them to use as communication, he had used witas as his messengers. Both male and female witches had obeyed his summons but he noted that the women were less impressed than men by his commanding presence, of his commands. Loki the trouble maker, kin of the Midgard serpent, had often spoken, in jealous tones, of the power of women. He might need a woman's help here, and there was a woman, but the one in charge – it was obvious even to the god who was in charge – might be angry if he showed favour. Woden sighed. Humans, mortals, were strange, unpredictable beings. In long lost olden days, the days of stories and songs, life was easier. There would be a beautiful maiden, a strong hero, a villain He looked at Ellie and made as if to approach her. And at once, he noted, all three men looked ready to rush to her defence.

The god looked at them all and threw back his head and roared with laughter. And from somewhere beyond the strange scene a calm English accent said

"What on Earth is going on?"

 **End of chapter three**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four – wasn't sure I would get this far. Tales of the Wild Hunt are from a long time ago. In England the leader of the hunt was Herne with his antler crown, close kin to Cerunnos, the Celtic fertility god. However, gods like Woden, Odin and their kin were more to do with war and punishment. I had remembered Gibbs dealing with nasty Pedro Hernandez at about this point so had to come up with something to prevent Woden taking Gibbs on the Hunt. Woden is, however, about to get violently angry because Bradley hid his soul in a horcrux, using sorcery. Just as with the characters from NCIS, I do not own nor did I invent the Horcrux. One day I will get to ask J.K. Rowling if she got the idea of a horcrux from her own imagination or from some ancient folklore. Tyr, the sky father, gave us the name of the day, Tuesday. He had his hand bitten off by Loki the challenger, the shape-shifter, the joker and everyone's enemy. I don't own any of the gods – what a strange thought – they belong to memory, folklore, the past. As always, I make no money, the only profit is enjoyment. Please enjoy.

 **Hunter's Moon Chapter 4**

 **At the** sound of Ducky's voice the god turned to see the diminutive doctor with Jimmy and Abby trying to hide behind him. The god seemed pleased at first, recognising a clever mind; he had noted Tim and Ellie but they were both so young and the other two men – great warriors they would make but not sorcerers.

"Are you a sorcerer?"

"No of course not."

The god sighed; "how am I to capture the murderous soul now that it's former owner has locked it in a horcrux?"

"I still have no idea what is going on." Said Ducky, exasperated. "I have a body in the morgue and Abby has evidence to tell you about and the evidence locker is full of clouds of smoke and an enormous personage who appears to be some kind of god – one I cannot believe in."

"It was men like you who made us." Said the god, his voice rising in anger. "Your dreams and desires over a million or more generations

produced gods and demons, giants and dwarves, elves and fairies, goblins and gnomes and other denizens of a world unseen." The god roared. The dust clouds rose and Jimmy and Tim started coughing. There was a distant and painful sounding lowing of cattle.

"They sound like my cousin James' herd at milking time." Said Jimmy.

Abby, Tim and Ellie snorted with laughter.

"This is ridiculous." Said Ducky.

"I have no idea what is causing the confusion – this is Woden or Odin, depending on your language, he is a god, apparently and the leader of the Wild Hunt. I gather he has come seeking the soul of our murder victim, Bradley, only Bradley seems to have hidden his soul in that chest ... and I can hardly believe what I just said." Gibbs sank onto a wooden seat that hadn't been hidden by clouds of smoke and dust.

"It's OK boss. Any minute now McGee will work out who messed with technology and we can all go back to business." But Tony really wasn't confident.

"Technology not to blame, at least, I can't find a problem with it."

McGee was standing in front of a computer that appeared to be floating on air. "This computer was part of a cold case, it's old but it works."

"and no sign of anybody interfering with out techno stuff?" asked Ellie.

On a stand in a corner the chest from Bradleys quarters squatted, silent and secretive. Tim felt it watching him.

"If the chest holds a soul and the soul is seeking a new home – how does it work if we open it?"

"We haven't a key" As Ellie spoke the clouds of dust were rising, as was the temperature. They were supposed to be in the evidence locker sorting out their minds, trying to determine if the strange illusions were real or not, or if they unfunny jokes by some invisible enemy.

They area around was expanding into the heroic landscape of their dreams. The lowing of the cattle was growing ever more frantic and the lead cows appeared beyond where Tony stood, and he looked over his shoulder, meeting glaring red eyes. He yelped in shock and fled across to Ellie and Tim who had been joined by Abby and Jimmy. Gibbs sat on the bench in tired disbelief wondering when or if he'd wake up soon and Ducky faced the angry god.

A cell phone rang. Everybody froze, but at the third ring Tim put his hand in his pocked and brought out his phone.

"McGee."

Even Woden turned to stare and wait with all the others. He seemed to have grown taller and broader and angrier. Tim thanked his caller, turned off the phone and looked around for Gibbs and Tony.

Woden had reached the height of the trees.

"Boss, that was NYPD. Bradleys sister was found dead in her car late last night. From their investigations, her brother is prime suspect."

Woden reached out and picked Tim up; the startled agent yelled at the god.

"Put me down."

"PUT You Down?!" He roared. "Why Don't I Stamp you In to the Earth?"

Tim swallowed. The giant god was holding him tightly and breathing was becoming difficult.

"Do you mind if I breathe – er – what do I call you?"

Tim could feel the tremble of fury in the hand of the god. He couldn't take his eyes of this unbelievable creature. He felt embarrassed at the tremble of fear in his voice when he spoke to it – him.

"Woden, Odin, Wotan – I am one of these and all at once; I am the dreams and wishes and fears of many." His thunderous voice sent clouds scudding across the dark blue above.

McGee struggled in the grasp of the giant hand. Everybody stared in concern and Tony looked to Gibbs for direction.

Ellie saw McGee getting weaker in the giant hand and had to suspend disbelief in order to intervene.

"Please put agent McGee down." She called up to the god. Woden did not hear, his eye blazed ice blue, his face was white with rage, he lifted a mighty hand to the sky and grasped the clouds, squeezing a heavy fall of giant raindrops until Ellie and Abby protested and Gibbs cried out "Enough!"

The response was a voice from the sky.

"Odin, brother, control yourself.!" Whereupon, he did.

The sky settled into the deep blue of a hot August day, tiny, white clouds floated gently, the cattle, elves and other denizens of fantasy and folklore faded away – all but Woden and the voice of the sky father from the world of folklore and fantasy had gone. The evidence locker enclosed their world once more and the world beyond the Navy Yard returned to day and the business day made necessary.

But the chest still brooded and they still hadn't worked out what to do.

The deep, warm voice of the Sky-father came to them again.

"I can help here. "

"I'd find belief a trifle easier if I could see you. " said Ducky.

"Believe me doctor, you do not want to see the god of all the skies; and you do not need to." Said Woden.

"Bradley did not use sorcery of his own." Said Tyr. " He used Loki – how he contacted Loki I am not sure, how he did this I do not know, but Loki has been banned from making contracts with mortals, he causes far too much trouble. We can deal with him. The poor murdered sister will be laid to her rest when this is done so what is needed is to get the soul of the wicked man riding on Woden's hunt. We cannot just open that chest."

"Why not" asked Woden.

"It will look for a mortal body to make immortal, a young, healthy body with a clever mind – there are two such standing far too close."

Gibbs, alerted to the danger and realising he also had to suspend disbelief, came and took Ellie's arm whilst Tony grasped Tim's shoulder.

"Come on probys, out of the danger zone." Said Tony and Tim did not protest at being called proby.

The seven mortals made an involuntary semi circle behind Woden, trying not to get too close to the chest, not wanting an escaping soul to invade their body.

"What would happen if the soul invaded one of us?" asked Abby.

"Someone would have to kill that person woth the gods ready to catch the escaping soul."

"I was just wondering how it would feel to be immortal."

"i don't you'd be given long to find out much." Tim muttered. "How are we supposed to talk to gods?"

"You don't, McGee, in case they sense you don't believe in them."

"Ah, got it Boss."

"You OK, after being held up in the air and squeezed breathless."

"Yeah, physically – heads a bit messed up – confused – "

"Oh, here you all are!" Said Ducky's voice. "Good lord, I'm here too. What is going on – "

The world sprang into explosive action as six mortals saw two Duckys, then only one and a long shaggy fur covered shape leapt at the chest and the chest started screaming as the god laid hands on it.

 **... tbc...**

 **End chapter 4**

Once you begin with the Germanic, Norse and Northern gods, they all want to get their part. The moon is for Monday, Tyr is for Tuesday, Woden is for Wednesday ...

Since the mischief making shape shifter has inserted himself where he should not be, who do you expect to come and help.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:- Hello and thank to all who have read and followed and reviewed. I have noted that I have made more grammatical errors than my senior school teacher would have put up with. I have repeated myself in some chapters and – far more of the gods are around than I intended. I don't know how that happened, as a child I did not believe in them.

I may have to revisit Asgard and check – I think it was Loki's son, Fenrir, the wolf, who bit off the hand of the Sky Father. Do you ever wish you had not got into something? Fenrir has a mother, the giantess Angrboda – she is away on holiday and won't appear in this. Well, not with intention or permission anyway.

Hunters Moon

Chapter 5

A giant wolf with slavering jaws landed on Tim McGee and he fell to the ground, his drawn gun flying from his hand and skittering across the tiled floor. The other agents drew their guns and aimed at the wolf. Woden stretched himself again and grasped the wolf's tail. The chest/Horcrux exploded, causing all heads to turn as a thousand fragments flew wildly into the air.

' **Bang. – Bang! –Bang!'** Gibbs, Tony and Ellie fired.

The wolf howled with laughter and stood on hind legs, shifting into his own shape, Loki the father, not Fenrir the son.

As the chest blew something almost un-see-able twisted into the air, a snake like motion of indeterminate atoms, It had a vaguely human shape, a man in uniform, and it powered through the air straight at Tim.

In the moment that three guns fired, Tim twisted sideways on the floor trying to reach his own gun and Woden shoved Loki back from Tim and stood facing him. The driving force of air missed Tim and twisted upright, spiralling to the ceiling of the evidence locker – which evaporated to show the blue daytime sky and Sky Father glowering down on the commotion.

From the East there came the sound of distant thunder.

Loki, a creature between god and giant, fulfilling neither role with any honour, towered over Woden, who was not impressed, and glowered upward.

"That soul is mine." He roared, in a voice that rivalled thunder.

"Come and get it, if you dare."

Loki studied the god of sky, father of all things. He might fight the one handed god, but Woden was there, right behind him. Loki had neither courage nor honour. He was a misfit among immortals. Powerful like a god, but not worshipped or trusted, tall like a giant, but fond of hiding himself in harmless shapes. He had been a harmless old woman, a hare loping across a field, tormenting the hunters after their dinner, and he could shift shape to look like his children – the wolf and the serpent and even Narfi.

In his rightful shape, he was tall and broad like the warrior gods, his hair was long and braided but his yellow eyes slid away from the one he was speaking to and if he smiled it quickly became a snarl or a sneer.

He looked down and picked up three bullets from the floor.

He held them out on the flat of his hand and showed them to Gibbs and Tony and Ellie and McGee.

"Your aim was true." He said, "But you cannot kill immortals with these. You cannot defeat immortals at all. Now, let me take one of you and the rest will be safe and free."

"Do you expect us to trust you?" said Ducky. "The other beings don't trust you."

"I don't think I believe in you." Tim's voice was a little shaky, but he stood up and approached Loki.

"McGee, be careful. ..." But Tim just smiled at his boss and walked closer to Loki. The space around them expanded and the walls of the evidence locker seemed to melt away. They were once more in that heroic landscape where nothing was normal or right.

Another rumble of thunder came from the East, closer now.

"Mortal, you cannot help Loki get the soul of the murderer. Do not try and sacrifice yourself, it would be the waste of a brave man. The sky father has the soul in keeping for the hunt."

Loki turned viscously and snarled at Woden.

"This mortal has a soul."

"Not one that would do your bidding." Ducky put in.

Tony and Gibbs moved closer to Ducky and Tim, feeling the need to protect but not sure how.

Ellie stared at Loki. "He seems to be very slowly shrinking."

Jimmy heard her. "Ah, thought it was just me. Yes, it's Tim's disbelief."

"Really – but if we all do that – " Ellie paused. Abby was staring at the gods in fear and wonder. The others were disturbed by her quietness.

"Don't believe in Loki, Abby." Whispered Ellie.

The thunder rumbled closer. Loki turned to Woden and snarled, "Keep your son out of this."

Thunder rumbled even closer. Realisation dawned on Ellie and Ducky at the same time.

"Thor!" They said.

"Another of these creatures." Snarled Gibbs. " Somebody wake me up and get me some coffee!"

"TYR!" Roared Loki, suddenly, making everybody jump. "Let me borrow the souls of these mortals, these interlopers in our world."

Thunder rumbled very close.

"Mortals have a protector and he is on his way." Said Woden. "And brings with him The Lady, to help guide the mortals home."

The mortal humans drew closer together, Loki unable to keep Tim in hold. Abby was looking scared but also confused and a bit angry.

"Ducky, w-what-what's really happening? Are these real – these – g-gods?"

"They are really the creations of generations of mankind – I think that's the best explanation I can give ... they usually only appear to murderers and other criminals at the time of death so that they can take the soul on a wild hunt in Europe – a cattle drive here ..."

A great roll of thunder interrupted Ducky.

Loki roared with anger and shook a fist at the sky.

"Tell your noisy offspring to keep out of it." He snarled at Woden.

"Who..." Jimmy didn't get to finish his question, but Ducky, drawing the two of them further away from the gods, answered. "

"Woden has many offspring, according to the poetic Edda," Said Ducky, "But that thunderous racket in the skies is Thor – Thunnor as he was known in early England."

"Why is he coming." Whispered Jimmy.

"To protect us from Loki, I expect, whilst Woden and the Sky Father get Bradleys wicked soul riding in the hunt – or on the Devil's cattle drive."

Gibbs and Tony supported Tim as the agents made their way to join Ducky, Abby and Jimmy.

"Which way is home" asked Tony.

"We are home, this illusion." Said Ducky.

"Pretty violent and noisy illusions."Said Ellie.

The sky darkened with large black clouds and there was a flash of blinding light. A heavy raindrops fell and the tired earth beneath their feet absorbed them at once. Before their astonished eyes a great wagon descended from above, pulled by two enormous goats. The driver was a huge, fair, blue eyed man with lighting in his eyes and a great hammer in one large hand.

"Thor."

"And a friend" Added Gibbs, in surprise.

"Well, that's five days of the week." Murmured Ducky, "Hope we don't get Saturn and a sun god too."

Freya, her hair crowned by a circlet of flowers, descended from a carriage pulled by two cats. She kept station between the mortals and the gods as if guarding them, 'though she looked a delicate guard against such as Loki.

Thor and Loki faced on another and as Thor laughed, Loki snarled "I made a legal contract with the mortal Bradley ..."

"How did you even meet one another?" Thor made no effort to raise his voice, it like rippling thunder.

He swung his hammer and gave Loki a glancing blow and sparks flew as the hammer hit a boulder – Loki had shape shifted sideways, spoiling Thor's aim.

Loki fled from Thor's anger, more keen to find the soul he now considered his possession, but it was nowhere to be seen and nor was Woden.

Loki stopped and turned this way and that, glaring at the vast covering of sky. The sky was dark gray, clouds covered large areas, thunder rumbled as Thor laughed.

"Where is the soul, where is Bradley.?"

"Where he belongs." The voice of the Sky Father could be heard everywhere. Loki hopped up and down madley like an enormous Rumplestiltskin in a rage.

Great raindrops fell from the dark, thunderous sky and the noise of the fighting gods sent a might wind rushing across the wild landscape.

"We need to get shelter" Freya heard him.

"Come, " she said, opening her arms wide and directing them before her, their backs to the battle and there was the Navy Yard, before them.

Gibbs, unused to not being in charge and losing his grip on reality somewhat, was the first to use his entrance card and ushered all the team into the yard. To his surprise, the smiling goddess also entered.

They were again in the evidence locker and Tony was the first to recover his usual demeanor.

"This should be a doozy to write up." He said.

"If all is well, I shall go." They all turned at the sound of Freya's soft voice. Tim and Abbey were already tidying the evidence locker. They turned to say goodbye to Freya, Tim feeling vaguely foolish, never having believed in such beings; but she was beautiful.

"Farewell Freya." Said Ducky, "Cme, Mr Palmer, you and I shall devise a believable autopsy report."

"I need to report on the remaining evidence." Abby hurried to go to her lab. That was when Woden appeared before Gibbs.

"I was concerned about you. You killed unlawfully, but in my time and place, such a killing would be an honourable vengeance.

You need not fear me."

Gibbs did not say he had no fear of Woden. The evidence locker began to clear. It occurred to Tony that they had all missed lunch and Ellie certainly felt the need for a burger and fries. Despite the weirdness they had all just been through, before struggle to make intelligent reports of these events, the aromas of pizzas, burgers, fries and other hot foods were savoured by all in the Navy yard and copious cups of caffeine were drunk.

The sky was darkening on the late Autumn afternoon as the teams finished their reports. The last night of the full moon would be left for those who worked the nights. It was a very peaceful night, so much so that some folk might have felt disappointed.

THE END

YIPPEE-AYE-OH, YIPPEE-AYE-A. THE GHOST RIDERS IN THE SKY.

A|N – Thank you to all who have followed, favoured and reviewed. One day when I have the time and the technology right, I will reply to all reviews. However – to someone asking why Ellie not Ziva – Ziva is Israeli and I did not relish mixing the Abrahamic God with the more earthy Norse, Saxon, Germanic ones.

The MCRT is mostly European.

An imp inside me wanted to add Cochise or Geronimo, since MCRT is in USA – but I haven't worked out a way to make them fit – yet.

The team will have reported that Bradley died of natural causes – it was shock of God – but why make life complicated?

from seeing the Wild Hunt but they could hardly report that.

 **Shawn 1968 and Guest - Thor yes but not all of the Avengers – not sure I even know them all,**

 **DS 2010 – Ducky is clearly raised in the British Isles – he wouldn't be afraid of these gods.**

As I began with the Moon – Monday – I decided to add Freya for Friday; that's really Friggs-daeg but Frigg and Freya could be the same personality; however, Frigg, as far as I know, has never arrived on a chariot pulled by cats. There is also The Lady, a goddess or Mary Mother


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